


it's in the special way we fuck

by sternenrotz



Category: The Horrors (Band)
Genre: ?????????? kind of, Anal Sex, Consensual Infidelity, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Riding, vague references to exhibitionism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-27
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-26 03:00:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3834538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sternenrotz/pseuds/sternenrotz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It's never like this.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	it's in the special way we fuck

**Author's Note:**

> titled after "Post Blue" by Placebo.
> 
> set in the same verse as this ([x](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3834493)) and was originally intended to be its ending, before I decided it didn't fit with the rest of the fic.

It's never like this, never.

They get to Rhys' flat when it's almost noon, really, when the sun's risen high and they're both starting to feel burned out.

“You want another coffee?” Rhys asks, when they're both toeing their shoes off in the hall.

“Don't want coffee.”

Rhys almost stumbles when he feels Joe pressing himself against his back the next second, if it weren't for Joe's arms around his middle keeping him steady.

“Wanna go to bed?”

“Let me get my shoes off first, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

They get each other undressed slowly once they've actually moved on to the bedroom, shedding their clothes one by one between soft, quick kisses peppered all around each other's mouths and cheeks. Joe gets his hands underneath Rhys' shirt before he's fully unbuttoned it, calloused fingers curving around his waist and trailing up his chest to squeeze and grope at his nipples and send shudders up Rhys' back. He's hungry for it, Rhys can tell not just by his grabby hands but by the way his breaths are punched out, like he's already close when Rhys is only _just_ getting around to fumbling with the fly of his trousers.

It's been two weeks at least, maybe more than that, so Rhys isn't too surprised that Joe's already half-hard underneath his touch, or that his own cock is straining against his skinny trousers, for that matter. He doesn't mind, though, just like how he doesn't mind the goosebumps that are running all the way up his back and arms even before he shrugs off his shirt.

“D'you want to close the curtains?” Joe asks, when he's leading Rhys towards the bed with his thumbs in his belt loops.

“We can keep them open,” Rhys says back.

He rucks Joe's trousers and briefs down past his hips as good as he can, claws into the flesh of his bum at the same time that Joe actually peels his jeans down to get his cock out into the cool air of the room.

“I can't _believe_ you're not wearing underwear.”

“You should,” Rhys says back, “should know me better by now.”

And then they're both naked and Rhys motions for Joe to come back and kiss him some more, and keeps him there with his arms and legs locked around Joe's torso. Their cocks brush together, aimless but still just enough friction and warmth between their bodies for Rhys to go from half-hard to fully-hard, and there's some illicit thrill about shagging in broad daylight, in the sun-filled square made by the window that fits exactly with the bed, that's maybe getting Rhys even harder where his cock is lying red-hot against his hip. There's something completely _irreal_ about the light too, though, sheets gleaming white and Joe's skin glowing pink, Rhys can see his eyelashes when he sneaks a peek as they keep on kissing. He's never looked at Joe like that before, he's pretty sure, can see the light reflecting from Joe's wedding band when he gropes for the lube on the bedside.

“I want to ride you,” Joe slurs into Rhys' mouth between soft licks, between tiny controlled rolls of his hips.

Rhys makes a tiny noise back at him, doesn't bother with a real reply, but he accepts when Joe reaches for his hand to squirt some liquid into it.

“D'you want my fingers first?”

Joe hums into the crook of Rhys' neck, untangles their legs to straddle him properly, and Rhys takes that to be a _yes_. He laughs at the tiny jolt that goes through Joe's body when Rhys touches his lube-slick fingers to his hole, just pets over it gently.

“Cold.”

“Relax, it'll heat right up.”

Joe giggles. “'m sorry.”

He's hot and tight inside once Rhys actually presses in, hot even through the cool fluid coating Rhys' fingers, obviously hasn't been opened up in a while. Joe loves it all the same, though, rocks his hips against Rhys' hand as soon as he's got his first finger in down to the root.

He takes the second finger easily too, still eager as always even when his breath hitches and he bites his own puffy bottom lip when Rhys first slips his fingertip in. By the time that Rhys is corkscrewing all three fingers inside him, attempting to avoid Joe's prostate just to rile him up, Joe's keening down into his mouth and shifting frantically in an attempt to get some friction against his sensitive spots.

“Stay still,” Rhys insists, tightens the hold he found on Joe's hip with his free hand.

“Can't.”

Joe spits the word more than he says it, really, but Rhys can't blame him, flush-faced and sweat-shined as he is, cock drooling all over Rhys' belly. And that's roughly how Rhys _feels_ , too, even if his own face isn't nearly as hot as Joe looks and his own cock is only leaking a little bit of precome.

“Need your cock.”

Rhys groans into the kiss when Joe reaches down and rubs his dry hand over his cockhead, just dry enough to shoot that pleasure-pain up his spine, and then groans some more when Joe pulls away to lube his palm up for a proper glide. He rubs the tip of Rhys' cock over the bit of skin just before his hole, like it's his turn to tease Rhys now, but Rhys isn't going to have that.

“You gonna sit on it or?” he asks, and it's meant to come out teasing but his breath's getting a bit too heavy for that now.

“Just a sec,” Joe says back. “I want to try something.”

He rises up for a second, moves off Rhys' hips just to straddle him again with his back turned. Like this, Rhys gets an excellent view of his arse, cock nestled just right between his cheeks, although Joe does struggle a bit with trying to line everything up.

“Come on,” Rhys insists, and like that, he rings one hand around the base of his cock and pushes in himself.

It's an easy first push, it always is, Joe so open for him the head pops in with virtually no resistance. Still, that first push doesn't fail to tighten the pit of his gut, or run a shiver of hot and cold along his spine. Joe's velvety-warm-good around his cock, and he makes the most delightful noise between his teeth when he first sinks down to take Rhys all the way inside.

“Missed this,” he breathes out, hands braced on Rhys' thighs so he can rock down on his cock experimentally.

“Me too,” Rhys says, truthfully.

His hands wander to Joe's hips and bum, pull him open a bit and rock him down against his lazy thrusts.

Joe makes a tiny squeaking noise in response and says, “missed your cock.”

Rhys laughs at him, and still, he can't deny that some of the heat from the pit of his belly is flowing up into his face. His hands move to Joe's hips, the sharp bit, to pull him in.

“Come over here.”

It's awkward, almost, Joe shifts around Rhys' cock with his arms and legs scrambling on the sheets to keep his balance, but then they're back-to-chest and Rhys links his arms across Joe's waist.

“You want it like this?” Joe asks, soft, soft tremble in his voice, and his face is close, so close Rhys can pick all the little details out of it and feel his breath.

“Like this.”

And Rhys moves in for another kiss.

Like this, it's languid, just lazy kisses smeared across each other's mouths with their hips working slow-and-steady against each other. Still, neither of them last very long, the steady fire burning up in Rhys' gut spreading out to pull his balls tight and tremble in his thighs.

“I'm gonna come soon,” he whispers in the vague direction of Joe's ear, too gone to make it sound less _stupid_ , and he laughs.

“'s okay,” Joe says back. “Me too.”

He's got one hand on his own cock, Rhys can vaguely see with his chin on Joe's shoulder. Even though he can't actually see Joe come he can definitely _feel_ it, the way his muscles lock up and release around Rhys' cock and all across his body, can hear it too because no matter how much noise Joe bites back, there's always the odd whimper or harsh breath that slips out from him.

It's probably the squeeze around him that does it, Joe's insides trying, trying so desperately to squeeze him out, and still, Rhys feels like it _should_ be Joe's little mewl that sends him over the edge. He locks their lips together to muffle his own embarrassing orgasm sounds, rides it out through the gentle rhythm still in Joe's hips, and he keeps his eyes shut and really doesn't want it to end.

Well, he doesn't pull out once it's actually ended, just gently-gently manhandles both of them onto their sides to spoon as good as he can. Joe reaches out for the tissues on the bedside to grab one, and he makes a disappointed little noise when Rhys' soft cock slips out as he shifts.

“Kleenex?”

“Thanks.”

Rhys takes the wadded up tissue from Joe's hand to clean off what traces of lube and come are left on his cock, and he tries to aim it into the ashtray he keeps by the bed. He misses.

“Gross,” Joe breathes out, giggle in his voice, and Rhys laughs back.

“I'll pick it up later.”

Their moment's over now, Joe's shifted further away onto his side of the bed, the square of sun now gone thanks to some weirdly convenient cloud. Rhys thinks about that for maybe two seconds but his eyes are already drooping shut, too exhausted to shower now.

He turns his back to Joe's own back, and he reaches for the duvet at the foot of the bed.


End file.
